


The Coming of Dawn

by LymneirianApparition



Series: The Arcana Futanari [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Doggy Style, F/F, Falling In Love, Femslash, Futanari, Futanari Apprentice, Girl Penis, Penis Size, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seduction, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 03:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LymneirianApparition/pseuds/LymneirianApparition
Summary: Taking place during the first chapter of Portia's route, apprentice Branwen can't understand why her body is the way it is. She's determined to hide it from her crush Portia at all costs. But when the duo get trapped in a closet together the truth comes out, leading our heroines to consummate their relationship with an intense and intimate futanari coupling.





	The Coming of Dawn

“…So anyway, Pepi had gotten stuck, and it was at least three stories up. Although just between you and me, I don’t think she was _really_ stuck at all. She just wanted to see what I was going to do. So there I was with no choice but to climb up the ivy and get her…” 

Portia carried on with her story while she carried Branwen in her arms: a feat which Branwen still hadn’t figured out given that Portia was at least four inches shorter than she and a good several dozen pounds lighter. But it was really just one more unbelievable thing in the most unbelievable day of her life. There had been the meeting with Portia in the marketplace that had left Branwen starstruck, followed by Julian Devorak breaking into the shop. Then Countess Nadia had come requesting Branwen’s magical services at the palace. Now, Portia had come to her in the night, confessing that Julian Devorak was her brother and pleading Branwen’s help in clearing his name of murder. 

Now she had wound up being literally carried in the redhead’s arms. The Countess might be striking and desirable, but Portia was Branwen’s kind of girl. Not that any kind of girl would want a heavy, pale girl with too-big hips and lank brown hair. But throw her bizarre physical _wrongness_ into the mix and such thoughts were totally out of the question. Portia could never know. No one could. Even now it struggled to betray her, and Branwen pressed her legs together harder, hoping that Portia wouldn’t notice while she enjoyed the sound of the redhead’s voice and the feel of her body, hoping the moment would last forever. 

*** 

_”Tickle fight!”_

Of all the simple pleasures Branwen never imagined she could have, tickling a beautiful redhead inside a closet had would have seemed as remote as the most distant planets. But now one thing had led to another and another. From Portia’s insistence upon hiding from the guards – even though they didn’t have to – to the hilarity that had erupted upon overhearing Bludmilla the guard gushing over raisins in her pumpkin bread. It had all led to Branwen’s fingers brushing all over Portia’s soft, curvaceous body, making her erupt in barely-stifled giggles. It was dangerous. It should not have been done. But Branwen never got to feel like a normal, happy woman and in this case the temptation was just too overwhelming. 

_“Ooh! You’re on!”_ Portia grinned as she issued the challenge and then her hands were all over Branwen, finding spots in the ample curves and folds of her body that the apprentice magician did not even know were ticklish. Branwen twisted to escape, but in the tight confines of the broom closet she was trapped, thudding into the closet wall and almost alerting the guards outside. The two woman froze, bodies pressed together, looking into each other’s eyes, brown to blue. The guards’ suspicion subsided. The danger passed. But Portia’s body was touching Branwen’s igniting lust in her that she could not fight and the special undergarment that constrained her deformity was powerless now to hide it. 

Portia’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened while her face grew so red it seemed to light up the darkness. “Uh… Branwen? What’s that?” 

Branwen’s own face burned in shame and she twisted away, trying to stop touching Portia with the huge and unmistakable erection sandwiched between their bodies. 

*** 

The events of the night should have been enough to wash anyone’s embarrassment away. The momentary panic of finding themselves locked in the closet; the bizarre and horrifying encounter with Count Lucio’s bestial ghost, and all that came after it… But Branwen wasn’t normal and the curse she lived with, not like anyone else’s. Now, as Portia lingered in her bedroom and dawn neared, Branwen’s shame returned hot and heavy as the suffocating heat in the Count’s haunted quarters. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Portia asked. Her voice was nothing but kindness, but for Branwen, who had no idea how to talk about her warped body, it was terrifying, and words did not come to her, only tears. 

Portia rushed to her, placing gentle hands on her and wiping the tears away. “Hey… Hey it’s okay. You can talk to me. I want to help. I want to know.” 

“No you don’t!” Branwen shot back bitterly. “I’m a freak. I’m a monster.” 

“Now don’t be like that!” Portia sat on the foot of the bed in such a way that made it clear she would not think of leaving. “Here, sit down with me and just talk. No pressure.” 

Branwen did as asked, but the bitterness did not leave her so easily. “Talk about what? That I’m a freak? A woman with a dick? Well that’s what I am and that’s all there is to say about it.” 

Portia shrugged pleasantly. “Having a dick doesn’t sound like anything to be ashamed of. Billions of men have them and they don’t seem to be bothered by it.” 

Branwen wanted to stay mad but it was impossible with Portia around and she laughed at the joke despite her best efforts not to. “I lost all my memories during the Red Plague. Every single one. I’ve been… like this ever since I became aware again. My master Asra knows, and he says I was a normal woman before, as far as he knew, and he doesn’t understand why I’m like this now. I think he knows more than he’ll tell me, but I can’t get him to tell me no matter how I try, and he can’t find magic to make my body normal again no matter how he tries. No matter what we do, I’m still the same: a freak with a woman’s body, but no vagina and a big, fat penis!” 

Describing her predicament thusly whiplashed her mood and a fresh burst of tears welled up within her. Portia placed a comforting hand between her shoulder blades and rubbed in gentle circles until the storm passed. 

“Liking both men and women is torture, of course,” Branwen said once she was able to continue. “And I made this special undergarment that I wear that keeps it, uh, _restrained._ But I guess it doesn’t hide what’s going on when I’m pressed up against somebody in a closet. Sorry.” 

Portia smiled and rubbed her back a little more. “Don’t apologize. That sounds uncomfortable, though.” 

“It does the job, mostly. But it’s not great.” 

Portia’s fingers trailed through Branwen’s lank brown hair like she found it spectacular – something Branwen herself certainly didn’t. “It’s not right that you should suffer so much,” Portia said. “You’re a beautiful soul. You don’t deserve to feel like this.” 

“Thank you,” Branwen said, wanting her to believe it but not quite daring. “It’s okay though if you find it disgusting. I would if I were you.” 

“I don’t find it disgusting at all. It’s just you. Everybody’s got something that makes them different. That just happens to be your thing.” 

“Yeah well… I’m still sorry for rubbing it all over you.” 

“Don’t be. Once I got over the initial surprise I took it as a compliment.” 

“I can’t help it. I like you.” 

Branwen’s cheeks burned again. She had said too much, and everything was going wrong. But Portia scooted close to her and put her arm around her. The arms that had carried her earlier now held her close. “I like you too. Very much.” 

Then Portia planted a gentle kiss upon her check and lay her head upon Branwen’s shoulder, Portia’s red curls spilling around her face and making Branwen feel safe and hidden from the world which was, most days, the very thing she wanted most. Portia liked her, but Branwen knew she only meant as a friend. Branwen understood. That was all it would ever be with anyone on account her bizarre condition, and that was fine. It was better than nothing. 

But then Portia surprised her by placing her fingers upon Branwen’s chin and turning her head to face her. Before Branwen could object or question Portia gave her the fastest and most conspiratorial kiss upon the lips. 

“Can I see it?” 

Branwen was sure she hadn’t understood. “You want to see my… cock?” 

Portia blessed her with a shrug and a wink. “I’ve never seen a girl’s cock before, and I’d really like to.” 

Branwen hesitated. “I’m not sure.” 

“Not sure as in you’re not ready for that? Or not sure as in you’re afraid I’m going to point and laugh, or get grossed out, or faint, or every other negative reaction you can think of?” 

“The second one,” Branwen admitted. “All of it. I’ve never shown anyone except Asra and that wasn’t… like this.” 

Portia stood up and gestured to the bed. “Lay back and get comfortable.” 

Seconds later Branwen lay on her back, her hands cletched nervously over her abdomen. With her big breasts, bigger hips, and fat belly she looked at first glance like the primal archetype of femininity. No one would have guessed at her hermaphroditic condition, and here was Portia, crawling onto the bed beside her like revealing that condition was a moment of intimate joy. Branwen still didn’t trust it. At least she was now too nervous to get hard unexpectedly. 

Portia’s fingers found the hem of her skirt and she waited until Branwen took hold of it in both hands as well. This would be something they did together. A moment of shared trust. Together they lifted the pleated fabric up past Branwen’s heavy hips, revealing the homemade codpiece that encased her wayward organ. Portia’s hands closed around the waistband and Branwen’s breathing hitched. 

“It’s okay if we need to stop,” Portia told her. 

“Are you sure this is what you want to be doing, Portia? We’ve got so much to worry about. Your brother. Lucio.” 

Leaving one hand on the belt, Portia reached up and held Branwen’s right hand in a strong yet loving grip. “The only thing I’m worried about right now is you. You’ve carried this alone for far too long. Now, are you ready?” 

Branwen nodded that she was and placed her hands on the belt as well. Then she lifted her hips off the bed and pulled down just as Portia did, scrunching her eyes closed against whatever reaction her companion might have. 

There were a few seconds of silence. Then Portia’s voice came soft and astonished. “Wow. Just… _wow!_ Branwen, you should be proud of this!” 

“Don’t make fun!” 

“I’m not! It’s amazing. It’s… Well… It’s beautiful! How do you get everything so smoothe?” 

“I don’t grow hair there. I don’t know why.” 

Then Branwen felt the brush of reverent fingertips exploring her: running along the thick, uncircumcised length of flesh cradled in its nest formed by two heavy, low-hanging balls. Just as Branwen began to enjoy that feeling too much Portia quickly pulled her fingers away and Branwen opened her eyes to see Portia wide-eyed and blushing again. 

“I touched without asking! I’m so sorry!” 

“I was liking it.” 

“You do look like you were starting to get a rise…” 

Now Portia’s long, strong fingers closed around Branwen’s paradoxical organ and began to stroke, making it stand firmer and throb harder with each long, deliberate movement. Long had Branwen’s own hand been her only consolation for her condition but it had in no way prepared her for the hand of another and her breath began to come in short gasps on the verge of hyperventilation. 

“You… really like me being like this?” Branwen asked in a voice scarcely more than a whimper. Portia law down on her stomach between the former’s legs and crossed her ankles, swinging her bare feet up and down in the air as she looked Branwen in the eyes as she ran her tongue slowly up the side of the other woman’s fully hard shaft. 

“Yes. I really do.” 

Portia let her tongue do a lot more exploring: very slow, very tantalizing exploring; all designed to make Branwen desperate for the moment when she would take the cock fully in her mouth and suck it properly. But Portia would not give her that bliss, not yet. 

She plucked at the fabric of the skirt Branwen still wore. “You should take these off.” 

“Portia, I’m _fat.”_

“So?” Portia sat up and slithered out of her tunic, which she discarded off the side of the bed. She took Branwen by the hand and made Branwen pinch the pale, fatty flesh of her middle. “Look at this. Feel this. We can be fat together.” 

“I know,” said Branwen as she nervously lifted her top over her head. “But I’m bigger.” 

Portia gave Branwen a soft kiss upon the glans of her penis that bore only the slightest, tantalizing hint of tongue. “Yes. Yes you are.” 

Branwen couldn’t get her skirt off fast enough and lay before Portia a full-figured goddess with an engorged prick that any god would envy, hard for Portia and Portia alone. But the wily redhead returned to delicate licks and gentle kisses with which she festooned Branwen’s aching balls and the hairless skin surrounding them. 

“Stop teasing me!” Branwen begged. 

“Stop teasing you?” Portia asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. “But what would I do instead?” 

Branwen gritted her teeth in sheer frustration. But in the end the words she had never said before had to be blurted it. _”Suck my dick!”_

She grabbed two handfuls of Portia’s copper curls and planted the other woman’s mouth over the head of her turgid cock and began pumping Portia’s head up and down, making the other girl fuck her with her mouth. Branwen let out a sound of relief somewhere between a snarl and a sigh. Portia offered no resistance, just closed her eyes and focused on the task expected of her, content to be used and mouth-fucked. 

But the angle they were at did not satisfy the lustful apprentice enough. She got up on her knees, no longer self-conscious of the overhang of her belly or the veins just visible in her big, heavy tits. Still holding Portia by her curls, she re-entered her lover’s mouth, pushing gradually further until she was fucking Portia’s throat. Portia just took it, the ropes of saliva and happy gurgles she produced throughout showing that she loved it. And when Branwen’s cock would bounce free of her mouth, Portia would only take the minimal breaths necessary before leaning in to suck balls almost too big to fit in her mouth. 

Branwen had never imagined anything like this happening for her, never imagined someone thinking her naked body something other than deformed and freakish, let alone wanting to please and serve her. But she had been afraid for so long and needed more in order to believe. 

She pulled Portia up to her so they were face to face. Even with watering eyes and spit down her chin, Portia was beautiful, and kissing her so natural and right. They tumbled onto the bed together, kissing, caressing, and pulling Portia out of her pantaloons which were flung to join the shirt in disarray upon the floor. Sweat formed between them and their softness stuck together. Their curves fit together. They were so right together, and Branwen wanted things to be more right still. 

“Say it, Portia,” she said, rolling over so the redhead felt the outrageously hard girl-cock pressing against her. No shame in it now. “Please, I want you to say it.” 

Blue eyes met brown again. “Branwen, I want you to fuck me.” 

Branwen climbed between the legs of the willing Portia. Her fingers pressed down on the base of her cock while Portia’s nimble fingers braced the underside of it. Portia’s other hand parted her lips and they paused for a moment on the precipice of an irrevocable act which they then committed together. Portia’s tight depths opened for her and Branwen pushed deep inside. 

_I’m inside her!_ Branwen thought deliriously. _I’m inside Portia. She_ wants _me inside her!_ She threw her head back, eyes closed as she came to terms with the way the willingness of another woman felt. 

”Hey…” 

Portia’s fingers on her cheek brought her back to herself. Portia was looking up to her in awe. “Do I really feel that good?” 

Actions spoke louder than words, and thus Branwen fucked the lovely Portia, putting those big, powerful hips to work rattling the bed frame and shaking Portia down to her very bones. 

_“Oh my GOD!”_ Portia wailed as Branwen’s cock pleasured her in ways no man’s cock ever had. Branwen took pride in her work. She might not remember having been a normal woman. But her body certainly remembered how a woman’s body could feel and what it needed, and she knew that sometimes the play needed a little bit of an edge. 

“You like it, slut?” Branwen said through her teeth. “You like getting fucked by a girl?” 

Portia, whose body shook convulsively with each high-speed thrust, could only gasp out, _”Fuck me…”_

Branwen cruelly stopped fucking her, but only so she could flip Portia over and bury her face in the pillow so that the palace servant thrust her big apple bottom in the air. Branwen reentered her swollen quim and the shaking of the bed was now joined by the _slap_ of Branwen’s balls: loud, rapid, and repugnant against Portia’s tender flesh. Other slaps soon joined the libidinous symphony as Branwen spanked the servant’s pale ass a bright cherry red. Branwen could tell exactly what Portia was feeling: an overwhelming mix of disgraceful pleasure and delightful pain as the orgasmic centers within her began to spark beyond their capacitance and her pussy was relentlessly stretched. 

Still inside her, Branwen pulled Portia down with her, the two of them rolling onto their sides and Branwen hitching Portia’s right leg into the air, fully exposing her to the endless attention of Branwen’s long cock. 

“Play with yourself,” Branwen gasped into the redhead’s ear. “Get yourself off.” Not that Portia needed to be told. Her fingers had already moved past the tight red curls of her pubic hair and were rubbing her hard little bean with vigor. At this angle, the pleasure receivers inside Portia were fully exposed and with Branwen thrusting them from within and Portia manipulating her clit from without there was only one possible outcome. Portia began screaming as orgasm took violent hold; her thrashing body steadied by Branwen’s strong grip and her orgasm sustained beyond its normal length by the indefatigable thrusting of Branwen’s magnificent cock. 

But Branwen had awoken from no memories to a life of physical isolation and frustration, devoid of intimacy, and that could only end one way too. 

“Cum in my pussy,” Portia begged, exhausted. “Please. I’ll help you.” 

To show what she meant, Portia began squeezing Branwen with her kegel muscles. In the tempest of their coitus up until now she hadn’t needed to. But having been so divinely pleased, she now wanted to please her lover, and so she squeezed, milking the other woman until she felt Branwen’s perfect cock swelling bigger inside her. Now it was Branwen who screamed as orgasm throbbed through her and into Portia, filling her womb with pleasing warmth. 

The couple lay together, panting in the aftermath. Branwen withdrew from inside Portia with great reluctance, her cum getting everywhere in the process. There was just so much. 

“Sorry,” Branwen muttered, embarrassed by the mess. 

“It’s okay,” Portia said, snuggling against her with a smile. “I like it creamy.” 

In the intimate silence that followed Branwen dared to ask, “Will you still like me if I get my body back to normal?” 

Portia rolled over and pressed her face to Branwen’s chest. “I don’t care what your body is like. I don’t care what you’re fucking me with as long as it’s you fucking me. And I want you to fuck me again and again.” 

Branwen put her arms around her. “I don’t have memories like a normal person. I don’t know what this feeling is.” 

“If it’s the same feeling I’m having, I think it’s called being happy.” 

That sounded right to Branwen. It _felt_ right. 

”I know magic made my body like this, somehow, Portia. But I don’t know what all that means. For all I know my sperm works just like a man’s does and you can get pregnant from me.” 

Portia looked up at her, smiling warmly. “If it happens, it happens.” 

“Are you saying you’d want that? To have a family with another woman and one who isn’t, well, normal?” 

Portia’s smile did not waiver. “Ask me if I care.” 

“Do you care?” 

Portia stole a heavenly kiss from Branwen’s lips. “Yes. I care about you!” 

Dawn came and the women still lay entwined, too excited to sleep. There was so much living ahead of them to do, and all of it to be done together. And Branwen now knew she had nothing to hide.


End file.
